


mind running with the thoughts i hope you see

by zipplekink



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fat Shaming, Liam POV, M/M, Smut, Zayn POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3435242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipplekink/pseuds/zipplekink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn loves performing - the crowd fueling every movement he makes on stage with their screams, the lights shining down on them, the songs that they’ve worked hard to create,  his brothers surrounding him and <i>Liam.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	mind running with the thoughts i hope you see

It’s electric, jolting through his limbs, shocking the thump of heart into something dangerously fast. It pounds in his ears, breaks itself against his lips so they press high into his cheeks

Fuck, Zayn loves performing - the crowd fueling every movement he makes on stage with their screams, the lights shining down on them, the songs that they’ve worked hard to create, his brothers surrounding him and Liam.

They share the same soft touches and crooked smiles off stage but it’s different here, the whole world can see. “80,000. I can’t believe,” Niall had said during the start of the show speech. 80,000 people witnessing the way Zayn looks at Liam when he isn’t looking back.

It’s ignites the flame sizzling through him, warming his limbs and trickling sweat down his back even though the air is cold here. Liam’s laughing, loud and unabashedly as they jog off stage in a rush to the car waiting for them, energy running through him as well.

Zayn doesn’t want to wait for drive back to the hotel. He wants to press Liam against the cool metal of the car and savor the taste waiting for him on his tongue. 

But he has to, so he smacks Liam on the bum for what’s probably the fifth time that night, with a teasing smile before he’s leaping into the car.

"Wicked show," Niall breathes, tumbling into the seat beside Liam, pressing him farther into Zayn’s side. Zayn wraps an arm around him, carding fingers in his hair to press their heads to together. 

"Can’t wait to get back to the hotel," he murmurs, lips brushing against his ear. He pulls back, checking to see the flush in Liam’s cheeks when he bites around a grin.

He’s been hard since Liam did that wiggling of hips thing he picked up two tours ago, performing Girl Almighty, eyes latched onto Zayn’s the whole time and Zayn definitely plans on keeping Liam up on his promise of getting down on his knees for him.

Liam’s hand slips between his legs, squeezing encouragingly at his thigh and it all of his effort for Zayn not to straddle him here in the car with their band mates and their security detail.

"Ace," Zayn agrees with Niall as Harry and Louis finally get in and they can leave. The crowd can still be heard as they drive off, fading out only to be replaced by the other boys loud recounts of the show. There’s a thrumming in his ears, adjusting to the shift of volume, and it sounds like the way his heart feels. 

"Practically eye fucking, you were!" Louis shouts, an accusing finger wiggling back and forth between Liam and Zayn.

"Well I can’t really take Liam right there on stage now, can I?" Zayn says coolly with a shrug of the shoulders. Liam flushes considerably, eyes widening as if this isn’t normal banter between them and the lads. He nudges Liam with his shoulder. “No matter how much I want to.”

"I’m sure the fans wouldn’t mind," Louis goes on, grimacing at them. 

"Might be a few scandalized mums but overall, you’d probably be fine," Harry snickers.

Zayn grins, leaning to press his lips back to Liam’s ear. They may joke with the other lads but some words are only for Liam. He may not mind when they talk about Liam and him, but he doesn’t want the others to know how malleable Liam is, willing to be molded as Zayn pleases. “You’d probably let me, yeah?”

(Plus, he knows how much Liam enjoys when it’s just the two of them – when Zayn’s attention is only for him and Liam’s daft, really, because there’s a never time Zayn’s attention is anywhere but -)

Liam’s teeth scrape nervously at his lower lip when he nods. Zayn presses two fingers below his chin, tilting his head to slot their lips together, so he can be the one sucking on that full lip instead.

"Oi!" Niall shouts, flicking Zayn in the cheek but he can’t get the rest of whatever he goes to say out as he crumples forward in a Niall-style laugh. 

Zayn gives Liam a wink, loving the round, innocent looking eyes he gets in return. It’s a ploy, using it against Zayn as a weapon, knowing what it does to him because Liam’s the farthest thing from innocent - obscene and a tease and always eager to show Zayn how well he can take a cock.

Zayn keeps a hand on Liam’s back as they’re escorted into the hotel, the post show energy still buzzing through them. He tells the burly one meant to watch over him that he’s sharing with Liam, and he nods like he doesn’t care. Which, he probably doesn’t. 

Zayn presses his chest to Liam’s spine, fingers digging into his hips as Liam fumbles with getting the key in the door. He bites sharply at the junction of Liam’s shoulder, grinding his hips forward, a taste of what’s to come. 

Liam’s turning in his arms once he gets the door open, trusting Zayn to guide him backwards through the threshold of the door. 

"Liam, Liam," Zayn murmurs low and rough, pressing the other man’s back against the door. Liam’s bigger than him, broad in the shoulders and a slight bit taller, but he feels smaller with Zayn’s body blanketing his, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his wrists as Zayn drags them above his head.

Liam gasp turns into a groan when Zayn grinds down, leaning forward to bite at Liam’s neck. He’s careful not to mark the skin, only sucking enough that the red will fade by the time Zayn’s making a new one. 

Every sharp breath, every whispered Zayn, desperate and pleading fuels the energy buzzing through him. He drops Liam’s hands, tugging him by the waist of his jeans to move closer to the bed. 

"Take the top off," Zayn tells him, pulling the collar of his own shirt so it comes off in one smooth move. He discards it, hoping one of them remembers to pick it back up because he’s quite fond of the little Garfield on it. 

His fingers work at the button of Liam’s jeans as Liam pulls the simple, white shirt from his body. It’s quite larger than the ones Liam normally wears and he tucks that bit of information away to ask about later. 

Zayn teases his fingers over the edge of Liam’s briefs as Liam steps out of the jeans pooling at his ankles. "Wet for me babe?" Zayn asks before he drags a finger down to where Liam’s cock is pressed into the cotton.

"Yeah," Liam says shakily, reaching forward to undo Zayn’s own jeans. "Always wet for you." 

Zayn snorts, folding a hand over the back of Liam’s neck again. It’s possessive as if to say, better be but he’s not allowed to feel that way so he doesn’t. He kisses instead, licking into Liam’s mouth, biting at his lips until maybe he gets it.

"Get on the bed,” he tells Liam, voice rougher like he’s smoked too much that day. He feels like he’s craving one now, actually, but maybe he’s mixing that up with Liam.

Zayn slaps a playful smack to Liam’s bum as he makes his way to the bed, cock bobbing between his legs in a way that makes Zayn want to dig his knees into the carpet for him. There's lube hidden in the bottom of one of Liam’s bags, brought up by whoever normally takes care of their luggage earlier. He tosses it and it lands on the bed next to Liam.

Liam always gets smoking rooms, for him he thinks even though Liam tries to sneak the occasional cigarette here and there but it's just wrong. It doesn’t fit Liam and Zayn usually snatches it away from him when he’s caught. 

He props one between his lips, pushing open a small window before he lights up. The energy buzzing inside of him is becoming a little too much really and he needs to tone it down. The steady rhythm of his heart sounds a bit too much like a name he rather be moaning.

Liam looks up at him expectantly, hand folding around the bottle as he waits. "Go on," Zayn encourages, voice thick with smoke. "Work yourself open for me." 

"Yeah?" Liam breathes, popping open the cap to pour the liquid onto his fingers. 

Liam used to be shy, hiding his face under his palm or the hook of his arm when he would spread his legs under Zayn’s gaze, spurred on by any encouragement or compliment Zayn would give him. 

Now he does it without hesitation, a bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he flattens his feet on the bed, spreading them almost uncomfortably wide so Zayn can watch the way he teases his own hole before gently pressing a finger in. His cock lays heavy on his abdomen, flushed and so fucking hard like he gets off on Zayn watching him.

"Don't be quiet," Zayn instructs, watching the way Liam fucks a finger into himself. He flicks the ash of his cigarette out the window, thankful for the brief moment of cool air against his warm skin. 

Liam doesn't drag it out the way Zayn does, there's no teasing in the way he stretches himself, quickly readying himself for another finger, for Zayn. 

Zayn flicks out the rest of his cigarette when Liam’s back arches, a rough moan bouncing off the walls. Maybe Harry in the room next door to them can hear, maybe Zayn doesn't care. 

He kneels on the bed between Liam’s legs and Liam’s eyes fly open as if he were unaware of how close he had gotten. He leans down, biting at the sensitive flesh of Liam’s thighs. Here is a safe place for him to do as he wants, marking him up with bruises that'll last until tomorrow, maybe longer. 

“Look good like this, Li,” Zayn says thickly, circling his fingers around Liam’s wrist to stop his movements. 

Liam whines in protest but Zayn ignores it, pinning his hand beside his hip once he’s slipped his fingers out of himself.

“D’you not want my cock?” Zayn teases with a quirked brow. 

“No, I do. Fuck – really bad.”

Zayn grins around a chuckle, pushing himself so he’s blanketing Liam’s body. He teases a tongue along Liam’s bottom lip to coax his mouth open, tasting the minty gum he had been chewing during the show. He’s not going to be able to keep the teasing up for much longer, because he’s aching, leaking against where the tip of his cock is grinding eagerly against Liam’s hip.

“Budge up.” He taps Liam’s thighs, shifting so Liam can wrap them around his waist. He grabs the base of his cock, biting down a moan as he sees how slick Liam is for him. There’s little resistance when the tip nudges in, easing forward slowly until Liam adjusts. 

He slides his hands up Liam’s soft tummy, gripping his hip. Liam’s beautiful, panting sharply, chest flushed and shiny with sweat. His thighs tighten, pulling Zayn in farther as if to say “get on with it”. 

Zayn wiggles his eye brows, dragging his cock back before pressing in further, taking it slow until Liam relaxes around him. 

“Hands up,” Zayn grunts and Liam’s palms fly above his head as Zayn leans back down. He slides his fingers with Liam, slapping his hips against the soft, yet hard body underneath him. He pants in Zayn’s ear, lips fumbling for a hold on his jaw but it’s just a scrape of the teeth, a swipe of the tongue.

The steady slap of their bodies bounces off the walls, mixing in with the desperate moans from Liam and Zayn’s sharp breaths. Liam’s hands strain against his grip and he lets one go, letting the man cup his neck to press their lips together. It’s bruising, panting into each other’s mouths more than anything.

He uses his now free hand to pull Liam’s leg up, bending it into his chest to change the angle and Liam’s reeling, arching off the bed. He tilts his head, allowing access to the column of the throat that maybe Zayn bites too hard on this time. They’ll come up with an excuse for that, later –

“Gonna,” Liam warns, digging his fingers into Zayn’s shoulders. Zayn moans in encouragement, grinding his cock deep with every thrust until Liam’s tightening around him.

“C’mon,” Zayn urges, reaching between them to grab Liam’s prick, smeared in precome from rubbing between their abdomens. A few jerks of his hips and a twist of his palm and Liam’s coming, streaking hotly up his tummy. 

“Mm, beautiful,” Zayn gasps hoarsely before he bites down on Liam’s shoulder, pressing deep as he comes. Liam’s fingers are in his hair, lips panting at his temple as he thrusts shallowly, pulling out the rest of his orgasm. 

“That’s you,” Liam whispers, barely audible. 

Zayn leans up, gently pulling his softening cock from Liam. He shakes his head, ignoring the gaze Liam’s giving him because he knows Liam means his words. 

He reaches, swiping a finger through the liquid coated on Liam’s stomach. “Taste good too,” he murmurs before dragging his tongue along the pad, wiggling his eyebrows. He does it again, this time dragging his thumb against Liam’s swollen lip until it’s pulled gently into his mouth. 

The energy around them has faded, sizzled out but it’s still nice as their chests rise and fall in together when he slides to Liam’s side. He grazes a thumb across the marks darkening his shoulder, pressing down until Liam gasps and he chuckles. A temporary mark of mine.

They kiss languidly, tongues rolling against each other until they’re both hard again and Zayn’s pulling Liam to straddle his thighs. Liam rides him, grinning at Zayn’s soft encouragements and compliments that he flushes at. He bites his lip nervously when Zayn tells him to slow or take it easy and Zayn ignores the expansion of warmth in his chest as he watches the other man. 

They spent a month apart, barely having time for anything more than quick hand jobs during their breaks during rehearsals. He thinks maybe they’ve made up for it the two days past alone.

Zayn feels heavy, sinking into the soft mattress by the time they’re done, Liam pulling off and rolling beside him, pressing his lips to Zayn’s shoulder. 

"Gonna stay," Zayn murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. Without making sure it’s okay if he does, he turns over, arms latching around the too squishy hotel pillow before sleep takes over. 

 

Don’t get him wrong, Liam loves this. He loves waking up to Zayn beside him, he loves the softened features of Zayn’s face, eyelashes expanding across the glow of his cheeks as he sleeps. He loves how the sheets fill with the scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke. He loves the warmth pressed against him from Zayn maneuvering himself sometime in the night to be laying half on Liam. Liam doesn’t mind, he loves it.

He just hates when Zayn wakes up, grumbling and pulling so far away from Liam that he might fall off the bed they share. It makes his heart thump painfully in his chest as he waits for it, careful not to move as Zayn shifts against him, fingers unconsciously rubbing his face as he starts to wake.

Zayn groans, arm slipping around Liam to squeeze him and Liam thinks maybe it’s another one of those uncontrollable things you do when you sleep until he hears Zayn’s raspy voice - "Wuh time is Li?" 

Liam strains his neck to look at the clock, not wanting to jostle Zayn too much. "Nearly six." 

Zayn props up on his elbows, on either side of Liam’s torso as he glares at the clock. "What the fuck," he swears. He rests back down, curling into Liam’s side. "Goddamn time zones." 

It had been nearly three when they had fallen asleep, and Zayn’s never had a problem with going under but Liam - once he’s up, he’s up. So he lays there, unmoving as he scolds himself for not making sure the remote was somewhere closer to him.

Zayn doesn’t stay asleep for long though, and Liam’s grateful because the arm he has around Zayn starts to hurt from falling asleep. 

“Mate,” Zayn says, words muffled where his mouth presses into Liam’s chest. “I can hear you thinking. Go sleep.”

Liam reaches up, hesitantly rubbing his fingers through Zayn’s hair. He knows how much he hates it, but he’s been unable to keep his hands away since Zayn’s gotten the new haircut. “You know I can’t.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothin’,” Liam answers. Nothing really, just Zayn, but he can’t just admit that.

“Liar,” Zayn snorts, shifting so he’s propped on his elbows and leaning over Liam. His hair is matted, eyes heavy with sleep and he’s beautiful, really.

Zayn leans over, brushing his lips against Liam’s. It’s rare moments like this that Liam loves the most, when Zayn’s being soft and gentle with him, cuddly or kissing him for no reason. It’s almost like Zayn is scared to do it, shutting down when he catches himself and Liam’s never understood. “What can I do to help, babe?”

“Just this – this is fine,” Liam says quietly. Zayn gives him a serious nod before leaning back in, slotting their lips together. It’s a gentle drag of the lips, swipes of the tongue and soft breaths. 

Until it’s not, and Liam’s fingers dig into Zayn’s hips to pull him on top like Zayn had done to him the a few hours before. Zayn groans, grinding his hips down against Liam until the easy, relaxed morning is gone and filled with something a bit more energized.

“If this is what you wanted, you should have just said,” Zayn hums, lips trailing down his chest. His teeth catch on a nipple before he rolls his tongue over it and Liam gasps, fingers digging into Zayn’s shoulders. “You know I don’t mind.”

Zayn licks along the trail of hair on Liam’s tummy and his eyes clench shut. He hates when Zayn’s focused on that part of his body, but he’s gone quickly, moving to Liam’s hips. Liam thinks Zayn knows, and he’s glad he never brings it up. 

He fastens a loose grip around Liam’s hardening prick, already bare from the night before. Liam wonders if he’s loose enough from the night before. He knows how much Zayn would like that –

Zayn tightens his fist, pumping Liam with practiced movements, a flick of the wrist near the head, a smooth glide of the palm along the shaft. The other hand steadies Liam’s hips to the bed, preventing them from thrusting up like he always does. 

“Look at you,” Zayn murmurs, swiping his thumb over the tip of his cock to slick his length with the precome pooling there. He’s watching Liam, eyes dark and it makes Liam flush and his heart beat a bit faster in his chest.

He jumps at the sound of music, something he doesn’t recognize but it sounds like Zayn’s voice. Zayn frowns, pulling off of Liam before he can prevent him. 

“Shahid,” Zayn informs him without looking back, padding over to the phone still in the pockets of his jeans. Liam thinks he’s going to turn it on silent, but he answers. “Hey mate, vas happenin?”

Liam wants to curl up into a ball (after he sneaks away to the bathroom though because the pressure in his cock fucking aches.) 

Zayn balances the phone between his shoulder and ear, coming back to sit on the bed beside Liam and he feels foolish, lying there still, naked and his cock hard. 

“Yeah, that’s a sick tune, mate,” Zayn says conversationally, reaching out to resume his movements over Liam’s cock. 

Jealousy twists in Liam’s stomach as Zayn continues talking like he’s not jerking Liam off, but just sitting in his room watching TV or something. 

(It’s actually a bit erotic, really, so he doesn’t ask Zayn to stop even though he knows Zayn would if he wanted him to.) Instead, he moans unabashedly, cheeks flushing at the thought maybe he could be heard. It’s embarrassing a bit, but thrilling at the same time and he may suffer from a heart attack if his heart continues at the rate it is beating.

Liam drags his fingers against his nipples, making a show of it when Zayn’s eyes flick up towards him, just for some reaction out of Zayn other than him chewing at his bottom lip, and because he feels better doing something than just lying there.

Zayn’s cock sits erect between his legs, the only sign that maybe Zayn is into this as much as he is. Or effected at all, really, by Liam trembling and moaning under his touch, by the fact that he has a hand on someone else’s cock, maybe.

“Yeah, I can come through. I have to get my hair cut again soon so I’ll be over there,” Zayn goes on, tightening his grip as his hand quickens over Liam. 

He usually waits for Zayn to tell him to be quiet or loud, but he doesn’t this time – knowing Zayn can’t really tell him to stop while on the phone. “Zayn,” Liam moans loudly, thrusting his hips up and getting a glare from Zayn in response.

“Hey, can I call you back? Liam’s botherin’ me for somethin’,” Zayn tells Shahid, a challenge in his eyes as he looks at Liam. Two can play that game 

Liam moans again as Zayn scrambles to hang up the phone, pulling his hand away as he puts the phone on the night stand.

“Think he heard you,” Zayn murmurs, pressing lips to Liam’s collarbone. “But you wanted him to, hm?”

Liam can’t gauge what Zayn’s thinking, or what an appropriate response would be, so he only shrugs his shoulders. Zayn was the one who had started it anyway, as if he wanted Shahid to hear him and Liam just went along with it. Zayn’s always been a bit possessive, and Liam’s always been his.

Or maybe he was testing him, seeing if Liam could be good for him and he failed it-

“S’okay,” Zayn continues, hand resuming over Liam’s cock. It’s a teasing touch, fingers trailing over him lightly. “Let him hear how good I make you feel, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam breathes. He had been close before Zayn stopped and he’s desperate for it now, but he keeps his hips planted on the bed, trying to be good this time around, just in case.

Zayn moves so he’s back between Liam’s legs and he pushes his legs up so Liam’s feet are planted to the bed. “You get off on that, yeah? Other people hearing you?” He traces shapes along the curve of Liam’s cheeks with the tip of his finger, eyes watching his hand movements instead of Liam.

Liam doesn’t respond. He doesn’t really, but he thinks he could get off on anything if Zayn was the one touching him. 

Zayn looks up, expectantly. “Yeah?” he repeats, finger nudging against his hole. He pushes in easy, answering Liam’s question on whether he was still loose enough from the night before.

“Yeah,” he says because he wants Zayn to get on with it. 

The only word to describe the grin on Zayn’s lips is smug, but Liam doesn’t care because he’s gripping him again, no hesitation in the way he moves his fist, blurring over Liam’s cock as his finger thrusts shallowly inside of him. 

Zayn’s lips are soft against the inside of his knee when he comes too quickly, trailing them down Liam’s thighs until he’s hissing from sensitivity and Zayn pulls off.

“Beautiful,” Zayn murmurs, pressing their lips together and Liam ignores the way his skin warms under the compliment. There’s that possessive, but somehow warm and admiring look in Zayn’s eyes again but Liam doesn’t comment. 

And he doesn’t beg Zayn to stay like he wants to after Zayn tells him jokingly to shower while pulling up briefs (that Liam is pretty sure are from his suitcase) over the hard length of his cock. Liam stands, reaching to palm him through them but Zayn cups his face and kisses him instead, using some excuse about needing a cigarette before leaving. Liam doesn’t remind him that he smoked in the room the night before without problem. 

The hot water is soothing down his back, relaxing the tension in his muscles that he hadn’t known was there. His chest always feels heavy once Zayn leaves and he hates that, but he’s never been able to get it to stop. 

 

“So you’ve just started touring for your fourth album. How’s it been so far?” 

Zayn sits back quietly, letting the other boys go on about it. It’s been great, though they’re only two dates in so far. Liam’s pressed to his side, Harry on the other side of him with Niall and Louis taking up the back chairs. Liam’s animated when he speaks, hands moving and keeping eye contact with the interviewer. Zayn’s never been good at that, always needing to look at one of the boys when it’s his turn to answer a question. It’s more comforting that way.

“We love Australia. Always so nice when we come here,” Harry adds, smiling proudly at himself. 

“Crowd’s been amazin’,” Niall interjects. 

Zayn nods along in agreement with the other generic things that they still always mean, no matter where they go. He’s focused on the warmth of Liam’s skin where his fingers press into the junction of his shoulder. 

“So Liam-“

It’s not visible, but Zayn can feel the way Liam stiffens against him when the interviewer turns her focus to him. She gives him a soft, almost pitying smile and Zayn shifts up straighter. They’ve been through this enough that he knows what’s coming. A sensitive question no one wants to hear, and was probably told not to be asked by their manager before it started. These interviewers never seem to listen, though and he narrows his eyes, hoping that’s enough to dis-sway her from whatever it is she’s going to ask.

It doesn’t. 

“There’s been a lot of talk on social media about your weight gain. Is there anything you’d like to say? Get cleared up?”

Zayn grits his teeth. Liam’s gaze drops to his hands, shoulders slumping briefly before he straightens again like it hadn’t happened –

“People are always talking about shit they have no business talking about,” Zayn interjects before Liam can say anything. He can hear the venom in his words, coming out sharp and harsh and he doesn’t care. “I’m a drug addict, Liam’s got a weight problem, Harry’s slipping into the legs of any bird he stands within a five mile radius of. Bit ridiculous and doesn’t deserve a response, really.”

Louis gasps his name behind him and the interviewer looks quite taken aback, eyes flickering between them and a producer off stage but he doesn’t care because Liam relaxes considerably, a soft smile on his lips when he turns his head towards Zayn. 

The interviewer opens her mouth a few times, clearly at a loss for words and Zayn rests back against the couch, squeezing his arm around Liam so he knows he’s not actually moving away from him. 

Harry takes over then, and Zayn tunes out his, “we have great support from our fans, so that’s why we try to focus on –“ because he’s pissed off now. His heart hammers uncomfortably in his chest and it’s taking everything in him not to rip Liam away from the couch and take him far away from all these idiots while they finish up the interview. He knows there’s a glare on his face when he looks at the lady, and she does her best to avoid any questions directed at him for the rest of their time there.

“Thanks,” Liam whispers softly so only he can hear when they’re leaving the set. Zayn wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. 

“Daft fuckers,” Zayn tells him, pressing a sloppy kiss to Liam’s cheek. They’re a bit rounder now, yeah, but it’s still Liam and whether he gained twenty or a hundred pounds, no one has the right to comment on it. They’ll have to deal with him if they even try it.

He had seen the tweets himself, and it had pissed him off (there may had been some frustrated tears but that was strictly between himself and his pillow). The first night he saw them, after Liam was spotted for the first time in weeks, he had called Liam and kept him on the phone until he fell asleep – hoping to delay the inevitable seeing of them. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Liam says, softly. His eyes are on the floor though and Zayn’s definitely going to inquire about getting that lady fired, or whoever wrote the damn interview script. 

“Definitely thought you were going to punch her,” Louis chuckles, throwing his arms around the both of them, pressing a sloppy kiss to Liam’s forehead. He gives Zayn a grin. “You looked murderous, absolutely terrifying bro.”

“Looked like she shit her pants, to be honest,” Niall adds, coming up behind Liam to nuzzle his fingers through his hair. “No one messes with our Payno, though.”

Harry’s at Zayn’s side, nodding along. “Nope. We’ve got your back, bro.” 

Liam looks embarrassed as he shoves them off, wiggling out of Zayn’s hold. “I’m fine, guys.” 

He doesn’t stray far though, fingers sliding against Zayn’s back as if he still needs him there. And Zayn doesn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.

 

Liam knows he’s gained weight, he sees it every day when he looks at the rounding of his cheeks, - getting fuller and fuller as the days go by. The sweater he knicked from Zayn doesn’t fit him as nicely anymore, a bit snug round his middle and he knows, okay? He’s got it.

He finally managed to get the boys to leave him alone, assuring he’s fine and insisting he didn’t want to go out with them, favoring staying in his bed and maybe calling his mum because she always knew how to make it better. 

She had, but only slightly. Liam knows she has to love him, regardless of what he looks like because that’s just what mums do. He takes her advice though, hiding his phone and keeping his computer closed to resist the temptation of going through those tweets, those posts on tumblr. Even if he were to look at the positive ones, there’s still a chance he’ll find a bad one. There’s so many of them.

(And yeah, he insisted on being alone but he kind of wishes Zayn were there to distract him, or at least compliment him in some way that Liam can at least pretend like he means it.)

He can hear Zayn’s laughter, the muted sound of his voice vibrating outside in the hallway sometime around midnight. The television is off, room quiet except for the sounds of Liam’s own breaths. He can’t sleep is the problem, so he pads through the dark to see if only Zayn is back, or if the others are too. 

Only Zayn is back, but he’s not alone. Liam stills as he watches Zayn press a small, pretty little bird up against his hotel room door, fingers sliding along her small torso and tugging in the curls at the side of her head. She giggles at whatever Zayn whispers against her skin and Liam sinks back into his room, letting the door slam. 

He hadn’t cried before, but he cries now, letting the tears pull out the pressure building in his chest. Zayn’s hooked up with other people plenty of times, and though he doesn’t actually tell Liam about them unless Liam brings it up, he still knows. When there’s new marks lingering on Zayn’s skin Liam knows aren’t from him because they’re careful, or when he smells too thickly of flowery scents (sometimes even their own brand of perfume and he thinks Zayn doesn’t even notice-)

Liam clutches at his sides, fingers tugging at the lumps of skin there. He lets himself wonder if he lost the weight if Zayn would want only him. He normally keeps that thought away, far, far away but he lets himself think about it now since he already feels like shit. 

And he hadn’t truly expected Zayn to stay in with him, but he couldn’t help the way hope for it lingered in his mind. And now it burns as it sizzles out and Liam shoves his face into the pillow to muffle the sobs that sound like lightning cracking through the silent room. 

 

It hadn’t really worked as planned. Zayn needed a distraction, something a little more than the burn of alcohol to clear the frustrations still lingering around from the interview. Liam had wanted to be alone, and Zayn respected it, but it just made him angrier that Liam was in that shitty of a mood that he needed to be left alone. When he’s upset he usually comes to Zayn, not makes him stay away.

But when he gets her into his room, he realizes she’s too soft – too small underneath him and too talkative, and he ends up kicking her out, hopefully as politely as he can because she was definitely a fan if the scent of You and I on her skin meant anything.

He pulls the key card from the TV stand that he had Paddy get for him earlier before padding across the hall to Liam’s room. It’s dark and quiet inside, but he can hear Liam’s labored breathing from where he’s curled on the bed. Zayn tip toes quietly, as not to wake him.

But he’s awake. Zayn can make out the shake in Liam’s shoulders and the glint of the light from the window reflecting off the white in his eyes. They’re glossy, too glossy and Zayn sinks down on the bed beside him.

“I want to be alone,” Liam murmurs, voice muffled. “How did you get in?”

“Got a key,” Zayn admits, sheepishly. He lies down, despite what Liam said but he doesn’t reach out for him like he wants to. His chest just barely touches Liam’s spine and Liam doesn’t push him away, so he takes that as an okay to stay.

Zayn wishes he could find the proper words to comfort Liam, but they all get stuck in his throat. They reveal too much that Zayn’s kept to himself, for too long now. He can’t risk it, even if he doesn’t come out directly and say it, Liam’s smart – he’ll figure it out.

“I can hear you thinking,” Liam mutters, rolling around so they face each other. Even in the dark Zayn can see that his eyes are puffy and swollen and Zayn’s chest sinks. He smoothes his hand across Liam’s side, letting it rest at his hip so Liam at least knows he can come closer if he wants to. 

“That’s you who does that, Li. Thinks loudly,” Zayn says softly. Liam nods, accepting that. 

“I don’t want to. How do you do it?” It’s so faint that even in the quiet Zayn can barely hear him. 

Zayn only shrugs. He doesn’t want Liam to know how. He likes that he can read all of Liam’s thoughts and emotions when they play out on his face. He’s been able to build a wall in front of his own, but he doesn’t want that barrier between him and Liam’s. 

Liam shifts closer, pushing his forehead against Zayn’s. His breath spans Zayn’s cheeks. “Teach me to be strong like you, yeah?”

Zayn only pulls Liam closer, not responding. He’s the farthest thing from strong, and the only thing that’s given him strength is pressed against him, wrapped up in his arms. 

“You’re the strongest babe,” Zayn whispers, letting the confession roll off his tongue because he can’t handle Liam thinking anything else. Maybe it’s the dark that’s giving him confidence, or the way Liam keeps sniffling like he may cry again. “My superhero, yeah?”

Liam snorts, sliding his arm around Zayn’s torso. “Shit superhero I am, crying over fat jokes from people I don’t even know.”

Zayn slides his hand to cup Liam’s cheek, tilting his head back so Liam has no choice but to look at him. “Just because something hurts to hear doesn’t make you any less strong. You always come back from it, shoulders straight and a smile on those lips.” He eases a thumb against them as to emphasize. It’s a gentle touch, not one meant for anything else – a touch just because.

“I may look like I’m being strong but that doesn’t mean I am,” Liam argues and Zayn feels like he’s talking about him, even though that’s something nobody knows. Even Liam, the only person Zayn’s let in more than anyone else – even if he thinks sometimes Liam doesn’t get that.

“Well, just squeeze my hand or something when you need to be strong, or for any reason.” He pulls Liam closer, brushing his lips over Liam’s chapped ones like a promise. He doesn’t know if it’s good enough, but Liam nods, curling into Zayn until he’s heavy and his breathing’s labored with sleep.

 

The same static energy is there, buzzing through them as Zayn watches Liam dance around stage, wearing the same smile he woke up to that morning. He takes every chance he gets to sing to Liam, fingers pointing out towards him so everyone else in the arena can know exactly who he is singing to.

He compliments Liam every time he can too, pressing his lips to Liam’s ear to tell him how nicely he hit a note, or how much he liked a new note change. It’s a little exaggerated, a little overboard, but the memory of the way Liam looked in his hotel room the night before haunts at him and he just – he just can’t have that again.

“Umm,” Zayn starts and the crowd goes silent, save for a few people off in the distant who scream his name. “The boys have dared me to switch up my speech every night, so I’m going to try something new here. But first I want to say you are an amazing crowd, massive thank you to everyone who came to see us today –

The crowd screams again and he adjusts his ear piece, walking over to Liam who is giggling with Niall off to the side. When they die down, he continues. 

“Can’t think of being anywhere but here in the warmth.” He reaches out to graze a thumb across Liam’s jaw before he curls an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close. “And being with my four best mates.”

Zayn doesn’t turn to look at Liam, but instead watches where they’re being shown on the big screen. Liam’s cheeks are visibly flushed, eyes a bit wide and he’s biting around a smile and the crowd’s going wild, shouting things that he doesn’t pay attention to.

“Awe,” Louis coos into the microphone and everyone laughs. Zayn focuses on Liam’s soft smile that he turns towards him before Liam pulls away, starting the next song off. 

 

Liam breathes heavily, collapsing onto of Zayn to press their lips together. He’s giggling, the high from the show, and Zayn, still very much there. Zayn closes his arms around him, balancing him on top. 

He doesn’t know why Zayn’s shown him so much affection throughout the day, and at the show – Liam’s pretty sure the people of Brisbane were going to watch him burst into a million pieces. 

He still might burst, thinking about the way Zayn laid him down gently, covered the soft of his stomach with kisses until Liam begged him off, cheeks flaming from the hushed ‘beautiful’ trailed against his skin. His stomach now is coated in come, and he would feel gross if it weren’t for Zayn, still telling him how beautiful he is. 

“Wanna explore before we leave for Melbourne?” Liam asks, nuzzling his nose against Zayn’s jaw. It’s rare that Zayn lets him be cuddly back, but he’s taking advantage of it for now. 

“Can’t,” Zayn hums, sliding his fingers through the short hairs on the side of Liam’s head. “Goin’ to London. I have to get my haircut and meet up with Naughty.”

Oh right – Liam’s stomach drops but he kisses Zayn instead of letting him see the frown slip across his lips. 

Zayn doesn’t stay the night and that heavy feeling in his chest returns as he curls in on himself. Harry joins him sometime later, and its better than not being alone. Harry doesn’t prod, but Liam’s fully aware of the concerned glances he keeps getting from him.

He doesn’t remember it being so complicated, and he’s not sure when it became that way. When he got sick of it. Maybe it’s constant nagging thoughts of his weight, but it doesn’t add all up into his head and he gets too frustrated to bother to think about it.

So he thinks about the first time they kissed (accidentally, apparently but he’s pretty sure Zayn’s a liar) and the time Zayn came up to him with an embarrassed red painted over his cheeks to admit that he couldn’t stop thinking about doing it again. 

Zayn was more open then, with Liam. Liam thinks he’s still more open to him compared to anyone else, but it’s hardly considered being opened. Sometimes he gets this look on his face like he wants to say something but he bites it away, always kissing Liam instead. 

And maybe Liam should just tell himself to shut up and be happy he’s getting at least that from Zayn, who’s had him in every way in four years. Take what he’s given, because he’s pretty sure no one is going to fancy a fat sod like him but at least Zayn is good at pretending.

 

“C’mon, Payner. Let’s go,” Niall says loudly, walking into Liam’s room as he packs his things. They’re taking an early flight to Melbourne in the morning and he’s not going to want to wake up early to pack. 

“What?” Liam asks, shoving a sweater he’s pretty sure isn’t one of his into his suitcase. 

“Put something nice on, let’s go. We’re going out. Explorin’. Let’s see what kind of bars they have here.”

Liam frowns. “Is that safe? Did you ask Paddy?”

“’Course,” Niall says, flopping down on the bed. 

“Why didn’t you ask Harry?”

“I did. He’s coming too. Skype with Lou right now though, and you know he takes forever to get ready and I’m bored.”

Liam nods as if this makes sense, before pulling out an old button up he hasn’t worn in a while and he’s not even sure why he packed it. It stretches tightly against his shoulders and he grimaces as he looks at himself in the mirroring. 

“Look fit,” Niall says genuinely, sliding up next to him in front of the mirror. “Definitely could pull tonight if ye want.”

“I don’t want,” Liam tells him, pulling the fabric from where it clings to his stomach. Maybe he’ll just stick with the red plaid one he wears during the shows. It’s larger, more comfortable. 

Niall shrugs. “Well if you were to change your mind, you could.”

It sounds like he’s trying to breach a subject and Liam grimaces, unbuttoning the shirt quickly before pulling another one on. “What’s this about?”

Niall shrugs again, innocently. “Nothin’ mate, just –“

Here it is. Liam groans, walking away from Niall to look back in the mirror and maybe he should just stop doing that for now, or they’re never going to leave. 

“Harry said you were crying last night.”

“I wasn’t,” Liam denies. He hadn’t been. At least, not when Harry had been there.

Niall shrugs again, fingers twitching anxiously in the longer hairs above his ear. “That’s what Harry said, mate. I’m here if you want to talk about it or summat.”

“Thanks,” Liam says. “But there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Nothin’? Not the twitter thing or the um, Zayn thing?”

Liam glares. “What Zayn thing?” 

There’s a pressure pushing down on his shoulders and he feels as if he’s going to crumble. The other boys never bring it up – never, unless they’re taking the piss or Zayn kisses him in front of them, but never any other time. Especially not like this.

And Liam’s an open book, and it’s frustrating because he hates that everyone can see whatever is going on in his head. He can never lie, or deny a thing and that always ends up in him being forced to talk about something he doesn’t want to talk about.

Like Zayn.

“I dunno. Just curious to know what’s going on between you two. Kinda seems like Zayn was a second from kissin’ you on stage the other night. Didn’t know if it is serious or not? If that’s something that we should prepare for?”

Niall hesitates, frowning at himself. “I mean, not that I care or anything. You just know how the upper guys are about it. I think it’s sick mate, you and Zayn.”  
Liam shrinks in on himself, gnawing at his lower lip until Niall comes up to him, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Liam shakes his head. It’s too late, really. “You’re going to have to ask him because I don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s really fucking confusing.”

He whispers it against Niall’s shoulder and Niall doesn’t respond, not at first at least. Maybe it was too much, putting that on Niall but he wants to talk about it. He didn’t know he did until Niall brought it up, so it’s his fault really.

“You know Zayn gets grumpy when you ask him stuff,” Niall jokes, pulling back to check Liam’s face, as if he were crying or something. It’s ironic really, that Zayn tries to convince him he’s so strong yet everyone treats him like he’s so fragile. “Pretty sure he would punch me in the face if I asked him why he looked at you like he’s in love.”

Liam stills, pushing Niall’s arms away from him. Niall’s never cruel, but that was a pretty cruel thing to say when Liam’s clearly opening up about having feelings without stating specifically so. “That’s not really funny, Niall.”

“I’m not joking. Have you ever seen him look at you? S’ gross but nice, kind of.” 

“I’m not going out with you, anymore. Have fun,” Liam says, storming back to his bed. Niall catches his wrist, stopping him.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Zayn dropped. Let’s just get wasted yeah? Forget about it?” 

 

Zayn slumps in the metal chair as he waits to leave. He’s lucky he was able to find a flight last minute, and that Marcus or whatever his name is wasn’t giving him shit about it, even though he had planned originally on staying the night in London before flying back to Australia in the morning.

The wounded look in Liam’s eyes when he had left lingers in his mind, filling Zayn with guilt though he’s not sure why he feels guilty. 

Maybe it’s because he had ran out of Liam’s the night before like a coward because too many words he couldn’t say were lingering on the tip of his tongue and he didn’t want to accidentally let them slip.

Or maybe it’s because the last time Liam had shut himself away after struggling from criticism over his weight, it had been because Zayn’s selfish, unable to voice everything he feels about Liam – Liam’s body so he didn’t listen, instead just shrugged it off and told Liam “he’s fine, ignore it.” And it’s happening again. The touches and kisses are no longer enough, Liam needs words but he’s never been good at them.

He texted Liam not long ago, but Liam has yet to text back. It’s late, but not too late and Liam doesn’t sleep well so he’s sure he’s still awake.

“Where’s Liam?” Zayn asks when Niall answers the phone. It’s loud in the background, music bumping and – “Are you at a club?”

“Yeah! Miss you, mate. I think he left about ten minutes ago?”

“And you didn’t go with him?” Zayn says sharply. Is he seriously the only one that knows Liam’s upset? And alcohol mixed with that is never a good sign, ever. 

There’s a silent pause, the only thing Zayn can hear is the background music until Niall speaks again, and it’s hesitant. “Um, well he wasn’t actually alone so-“

“Niall,” Zayn growls, hanging up the phone. He dials Liam’s number, five times and it goes to voicemail each time. 

He calls Harry, and he’s irritated already, so he has no patience for the other lad when h slurs into the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“Leaving the club, mate. Where are you?”

“Coming home. Go to Liam’s room, yeah? Check on him?”

“Can’t,” Harry snickers. “But can’t tell you why.”

Zayn groans in aggravation, pinching the bridge of his nose roughly. “It’s important, Haz. I don’t care if he has a bird in there, just go up yeah? Tell Paddy to let you in.” He curses at himself for not saving Paddy’s number in his phone, because at least he would be easier to deal with.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry laughs, hiccupping into the phone and Zayn hangs up, because finally, Marcus is waving him over to leave.

 

It’s awkward, and that’s why Liam doesn’t do random hook ups. She slides off of him with a wary smile, a wavering thank you as she slips her clothes on. Ready to go already, and she’d only been there thirty minutes.

Liam doesn’t mind though, because it was all wrong. She didn’t touch him right, didn’t smell right – didn’t feel right. She wanted the lights off, and Liam was sure it was because she could see the round of his belly pressing against his shirt, and if he wasn’t famous well –

“Open the door,” comes Harry’s voice, slurred and shouting, from behind the door. “Let me in Payne!”

“Is that Harry?” the girl whispers, giggling.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Actually, think it might be that bloke from the newest rom-com that came out. D’you want his autograph?” 

The girl glares at him but tip toes quickly after him until he opens the door. Harry gives him a sloppy grin. “Sorry about interrupting –“

The girl gasps and Liam turns. “Thanks for that. You know the way out yeah?”

He’ll feel bad for being rude later, but he’s really not in the mood for someone he just had his prick in to fawn over Harry in a way she definitely didn’t with him. 

“What do you want, Haz? M’gonna go to sleep.”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno. Zayn told me I had to come up here.”

Liam frowns. That just adds to his irritation and he wants to slam the door in Harry’s face, even if it’s not Harry’s fault. “Tell Zayn to fuck off. You don’t have to listen to him.”

“Said it was really important,” Harry says innocently. Then he pauses, frowning at Liam “Probably just wanted me to ruin your date, huh?”

Liam claps him on the shoulder. “Good lad. Now go to sleep, yeah?”

“I am sorry –“

“It’s okay!” Liam shouts as he slams the door. 

He hadn’t much to drink, only enough to make his head a bit fuzzy and distract his thoughts, but it’s long faded away now. His head feels heavy though, when it hits the pillow and sleep takes over him easily for once. 

 

“You better wake up.”

He’s rocking, being shaken roughly and he groans, swatting out to push the arms off of him. 

“Liam, wake up.”

It’s urgent and Liam snaps his eyes open. Zayn’s leaning over him, eyes wide. He’s wearing one of Liam’s snapbacks, and Liam thinks that might actually be his hoodie too –

“What, Zayn? Leave me alone, m’sleeping.”

“Sound like me,” Zayn snickers, dragging a thumb along Liam’s eyebrows until he swats at his hand. “But we have a flight to catch, y’know.”

That’s when Liam remembers he’s not supposed to see Zayn until they land in Melbourne and he’s pushing up, a frown on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Waking you up,” Zayn reminds him. “I packed the rest of your stuff. How much did you drink last night because you never sleep that hard?”

Liam’s suitcase sits by the door, his carry-on bag resting on top. He ignores Zayn’s question, glancing at the clock as he gets out of bed and they’re due to leave in ten minutes.

“How much did you drink?” Zayn repeats, cupping Liam’s cheeks and rubbing his thumbs under the bags under Liam’s eyes. Zayn looks like he’s searching for something, relaxing when he doesn’t see whatever it is. 

“Like two beers. Why does it matter?” Liam snaps.

“There’s a condom next to the garbage can,” Zayn mutters, eyes wide. There’s something on his face Liam’s never seen, kind of fragile and it reminds Liam of himself when he looks in the mirror, pulling at the parts of him he wishes would disappear. “A used condom.”

“What’s it to you?” Liam says more harshly than he means to. Zayn hooks up with plenty of people and he doesn’t comment on it, why does Zayn have to? “Jealous or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” Zayn snaps, glaring at him. If Liam didn’t know any better, he would think Zayn’s going to punch him but he does know better and knows he’s not in any danger. “A bit, actually.”

“Well –“

Zayn presses their lips together roughly, licking into Liam’s mouth when his lips part because he’s malleable under Zayn’s fingertips, always willing to move as Zayn dictates. It curls in his stomach, arousal mixed with something less pleasant. 

“Mine, yeah?” he murmurs, finger dragging against Liam’s lower lip. “My Liam. Now let’s go before we’re late.

Liam’s finger rubs absently at his lips as they sit on their plane, waiting for it to take off. Zayn sits beside him, claiming the seat that was supposed to be Niall’s without word. 

The word ‘mine’ lingers and he wants to rub it in to his skin, tattoo it permanently across his chest. Zayn’s murmured it before, without realizing it Liam thinks, when he’s pressed his teeth into Liam’s skin, but there was something different about it this time. Like he was whispering a secret of some sort and this time he was revealing it.

But it’s Liam’s secret, one he’s always known and thought it had been pretty obvious.

Fingers on Liam’s other hand tap restlessly against his thigh. Zayn hums along to a beat he doesn’t recognize and he taps his fingers along with it, until he feels Zayn’s hand slip under them, pressing their palms together and linking their fingers.

“I can hear you thinking, again,” Zayn murmurs. 

“M’not,” Liam denies, keeping his face straight because Zayn’s face is only a few inches from his own and he really doesn’t want to kiss him right now. (And that’s a lie but if he tells himself it enough times maybe he’ll start to believe it).

“Thinking about her? D’you even remember her name?”

Liam turns, pulling his head back enough to glare at him. “How do you know it was a girl? And why the fuck does it matter to you? You hook up with randoms all the time.”

“You never told me you didn’t want me to,” Zayn whispers, shrugging his shoulders as if what he just said made sense. 

“And neither did you!” Liam grunts, ripping his fingers away to fold his arms across his chest, and he feels like a child about to throw a tantrum.

Zayn straightens. “I don’t want you to,” he says easily.

“I don’t really think you have much say in that,” Liam says stubbornly. 

Zayn lets out a noise in frustration, surprising him by slipping out of his seat to straddle Liam’s thighs. He presses Liam’s hands above his head, and Liam gets mad at the arousal that twists in his stomach. “Do you want to fuck other people?” He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of Liam’s ear. 

“No,” Liam says, unable to lie. He’s caught off guard, okay? and frustrated and confused about why he’s frustrated -

“Just me?”

Liam nods.

“Were you thinking about me when you were with her?”

Another piece of truth Liam can’t keep on his tongue.

“Because you’re mine yeah?”

Liam nods. “Because I love you.”

The words hang in the air, both of them tensing at the confession. Liam grimaces, trying to hide his face against Zayn’s arm because Zayn’s staring down at him with a hard look that he can’t read. 

“Like a mate?” Zayn whispers, brows pushing together.

Liam shakes his head, hiding his face. It’s already out, he might as well get it over with. 

“More than a mate?”

“Zayn,” Liam snaps, cheeks flushed. When he looks, Zayn’s got a teasing grin on his face again and Liam doesn’t get him.

“So you are really mine?” 

Liam shifts, struggling against his grip. “Get off of me.”

Zayn presses his hands harder into the back of the chair, thighs closing in around him as he leans forward and presses their lips together. Liam stops struggling, cussing at himself because he’s never going to be able to contain himself when Zayn’s around.

“He loves you too!” Louis shouts from somewhere behind him, followed by Niall’s muffled cackling. Zayn pulls back, nodding, letting one of Liam’s hands go to cup his chin.

“My Liam, yeah?” Zayn asks again, voice hushed.

“My Zayn?” Liam tries.

Zayn smiles one of those soft ones he loves so much, tongue flicking out to drag across his bottom lip as he nods. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”  
“Why not?” Liam pouts, placing his hand on Zayn’s hips to steady him. Zayn just shrugs and Liam doesn’t prod, he can tell it’s one of those things he’ll never talk about. 

“I wouldn’t have. Figured it out, that is. You don’t make it obvious,” Liam goes on, shifting his legs so Zayn falls closer. Zayn chews on his lip guiltily 

“I don’t think quite as loudly as you,” he whispers. He lets go of Liam’s other hand, favoring to cup Liam’s cheeks instead. “But I like that about you.” Zayn hesitates, lips parting all those times it seems like he’s going to continue but he never does. “I kinda like you, really.”

Liam’s eyes are on Zayn’s lips as he speaks and it’s definitely him that says it, Liam’s heads not playing tricks on him but he can’t process it.

“Liam,” Zayn whispers. It’s starting to get a little uncomfortable the way they’re sitting and Liam’s not sure if his ears are ringing because of his thoughts or because they’re so high in the air, but he can hardly hear the other lads at the back of the plane and this is the worst place to do this. “Can you say something?”

Liam nods, but doesn’t speak. Zayn gives him a patient sigh, a warm smile that blinds Liam a bit and he wants to hold onto it forever.

“Kind of like me?” Liam repeats, savoring the way the words taste on his tongue. His brain never shuts up, words always on the tip of the tongue when he’s with Zayn but right now he’s struggling to retrieve any of them other than that, which repeats over and over in his head. 

Zayn gives him a jerky nod. “Like a little more, maybe. What Louis said, yeah.”

Liam snorts, a smile on his face that breaks the tension some, but not completely because his heart is still pounding brutally in his chest. “Kind of hard to believe, really.”

Zayn frowns at him. “I deserve that.”

“No, no,” Liam says quickly. “Just like – um, me? I guess. That’s the part that’s hard to believe.”

“What are you going on about?” Zayn says softly, propping his hands on the seat behind Liam’s head. 

Liam tilts his head down, looking between their bodies. They look nice pressed together, but Liam can see the way his stomach rolls out and presses into the shirt that he didn’t get to change that morning.

“Liam,” Zayn says, warning in his tone. He presses a finger against Liam’s chin, forcing his head up. “Don’t even, yeah? Don’t even go there.”

Liam just shrugs. “You’re kind of beautiful, mate. And I’m –“

Zayn presses a finger to his lips. The angry look on Zayn’s face makes Liam want to shrink and disappear into the chair. Zayn’s eyes are soft though, and maybe Zayn thinks a bit louder than he knows. “Do you think I have a drug problem? Or I’m a terrorist or any of those other shit things people say because of my religion?”

He doesn’t move his finger from Liam’s lips so he can only shake his head, glaring at Zayn.

“You must if you believe what Twitter has to say?”

Liam wants to shove Zayn off of him, really, but he just swats Zayn’s hand off of his mouth. “I don’t, Zayn. You know that,” he argues. 

“Then how come you believe what they have to say about you?”

Liam frowns, lips parting and shutting again. He knows what Zayn’s getting at but it’s different. “Because it’s quite true.”

“Bullshit,” Zayn says quickly. “That’s absolute shit, and you know it. You’re hardly any bigger than me, and even if you do gain a lot of weight, I’ve loved you for four years now I don’t really think that’s going to change.”

“Love,” Liam repeats, everything else seemingly less important now. “You said love.”

Zayn smiles, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, ya jerk. Love every part of you and always will.”

“Even when I’m fat and old,” Liam sings softly.

Zayn’s nose scrunches. “So that’s what we’re doing now?” 

Liam nods, biting around a smile. Nearly every song on the album somehow reminds him of Zayn, and he’s not quite sure how it happened, really. 

“Fine,” Zayn murmurs like a challenge. He takes Liam’s hand, pressing it to his chest. “No baby this is not an illusion, I’ve really got my heart on my sleeve.”

Liam thinks he’s found his favorite Zayn, this one. This one he loves the most. “Did Julian ever tell you how that song came about?” 

“You wrote it, yeah?” Zayn murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against Liam’s cheek. “It’s ace, mate.”

“Wrote it for you,” Liam admits sheepishly, fingers digging into his hips. He hadn’t told anyone that, only Julian – who had guessed it was Zayn really, before he could actually tell him himself. “In case you ever figured it out.”

Zayn hovers his lips over Liam’s, a smile breaking across his lips. “I did. Now it’s your turn.”

 

It’s exhilarating. Zayn can’t help himself as he dances on stage, making sure Liam’s got his eyes on him when he does so. Liam smiles, winking and he’s not sure if anyone else can see but it’s okay –

It’s still the lights shining above him, the crowd cheering below, his boys dancing along stage with him. But maybe now it’s a little more of the songs they sing, ones that have he never realized spoke all the words he had been unable to say. And a little more Liam that makes it so exciting to be up there, the way he’s looking at Zayn the same way Zayn looks at him – and the whole crowd gets to see it.

Liam wiggles his hips, hand reaching out for him as Zayn closes the space between them. “I wanna be yours, do you wanna be mine?”

The crowd goes nuts when Zayn presses a kiss to Liam’s cheek, and yeah, Zayn definitely loves being on stage.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep the other night and somehow ended up writing this. Don't worry, I'll be posting Chapter Three of my other fic in the next two days, I didn't forget! Please let me know if this is awful. [tumblr](http://zaynspank.tumblr.com)


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